3 Series of 15
by Franbell
Summary: "I fell asleep on the uncomfortable white couch, with tears in my eyes and a long, thick and sad shot of Bacardi"- Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.


**Author's Note**

**This is actually my first fanfiction ever, not only on this site, so hooray for me, I actually wrote something for once. It kinda felt like duty honestly, especially towards this fandom, since I'm constantly reading you guys' fics and I rarely ever leave even a review. So this is my love letter to the White Rose fandom! Hope you don't hate it.**

**It should be noted that this fic is narrated from the POV of a really shitty person: Ruby. In this "realistic" AU at least, both Ruby and Weiss are horrible people and are undergoing relationship problems that are born from their own egoism, so it shouldn't be mentioned that they're both quite OOC, that said, I did try to stay somewhat true to their personalities, ages and appearances, I just didn't think I could write M rated drama using the series' original archetypes for the characters, so I changed them a little bit. And that brings me to my second point. This is a DRAMA fic, while it definitely won't have you bawling your eyes out, you won't be reading any fluff either. So sorry about that. Also, the sex scene is pretty short and is nothing more than a plot element, so if you're looking for a lemon you WILL be dissappointed.**

**TL;DR if you don't like weird AUs, OOCness and a lack of fluff/lemon then feel free to click the "back" button. I won't be offended... Still here? Great, enjoy!**

**_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/ **

I don't even remember how we met, it must have been a misunderstanding of sorts because we barely understood each other, we spoke completely different languages. For her, "a beer" meant a 350ml Corona with lots and lots of lemon, for me it meant a 1lt Heineken straight from the bottle. She said she only drank "one in a thousand times", for me if it was a thousand times, I'd drink about eight hundred. Weiss was one of those girls that got up at 9 o'clock every Saturday to jog around the Vale Central Park, she'd wear those dumb sneakers with lots of colors and air cushions -or something like that- with light blue shorts and a tight white shirt. I never actually saw the episode of her running, I would've loved to but that meant not only having to get up early in the morning, but also having to keep up with her. Hell no.

She worked as an apprentice at her father's oil company five days a week, I'd always call her on Friday night, I rarely have anything to do on Friday. She'd always answer the phone with a caring yet exhausted voice, so exhausted in fact that she couldn't even sleep, so I never saw her on Saturday morning.

She had long white hair, an extremely rare and beautiful color. But to my great disgust, she'd always tie it in this weird off-side pony tail like you'd see on a luxurious horse. She said her untied hair wiggled around too much and when she was running it would "mess with her speed". How silly.

She had static blue eyes, almost dull, expressionless. I'm really big into eyes, goddamit, bring me anyone with greyish blue eyes and I'll do them right there on the floor. But Weiss didn't like her eyes, and neither did I. I don't think she liked a single part of her body she couldn't shape with exercise, that's why she liked her butt so much, and so did I, though neither of us would ever admit it for extremely different reasons.

We didn't go out all that much, even though there were quite a few bars and clubs near her apartment (which she called "flat", something that I still can't quite digest), but the few times we did go out she said she was bored, that the music was too loud, a problem that could be easily fixed with a drink, but she didn't like drinking, and I did. 40 minutes after we arrived we had to leave, and I was forced to down my glass like the cops were turning around the corner.

So we mostly hung around her place. It was one of those apartments that were built on grotesquely tall buildings that have become popular these past 10 years or so. Fancy stuff really, it had a gym, a pool, and a bunch of other dumb stuff that I would never use (Weiss always begged to differ).

When I went to see her I'd always find her working out at the gym, sitting on weird machines, toning muscles whose names I've never heard and burning non-existing fat.

After she left the gym she'd take an extremely brief shower, I'd be amazed if any water ever managed to touch her feet. I remember feeling fuzzy thinking that she hurried up with her shower trying to spend more time with me.

I'd wait for her in a big and uncomfortable white couch, which had a small TV in front of it.

I switched through the channels looking for a decent show or movie to watch but I never made it in time, Weiss would always put the most stupid channel ever right after she showered, it was some chick doing yoga routines and all that modern crap. Weiss wanted to be like her.

Weiss didn't have many friends, only a couple whom were extremely alike, also into exercise, also into being lonely, sometimes I think Weiss and I were pretty alike, just… opposites, polar opposites.

She'd tell me "c'mon, follow me" and started imitating the girl on the screen with her routines and not very sensual movements, I would just stare at this scene from behind with a dead expression, like when waiting for the dentist to call your name. Naturally I got bored, and asked her if she had anything to drink, even if it was a weekday, even if I had to drink alone, but I felt that if I kept watching that scene I'd get some terminal illness.

"There's some Bacardi in the fridge, it's yours if you want it" She told me without stopping her exercises or even turning away from the TV.

"No thanks, I don't drink rum, I killed it two years ago, I hope I don't kill vodka anytime soon though, I really like vodka… do you… have any?" I asked with too many words, clumsily trying not to waste what little attention she was giving me.

"I don't" she told me with a harsh tone, indirectly telling me to shut up. It was then that I learned why her showers were so brief, it wasn't to spend time with me, but with the TV.

"Um… Okay, nevermind then… thanks" I said to her ponytail.

One time while doing that same routine her towel fell (she didn't get dressed until after finishing her yoga) and before she could put it back on I threw my arms around her as if to bring her closer to the couch, to me.

"Ruby, stop" Weiss demanded.

"Oh, c'mooon, don't be like that" I insisted, not letting go of her waist, thinking maybe she was just playing hard to get.

"Don't be lewd, I just had a shower! Let me go!" And I let her go.

"Okay, be like that" And she went back to her routine.

And she continued like that for a good 20 minutes before getting bored. After that she put on a sleeveless white shirt and light jean shorts. She never truly dressed up or put on makeup when it was just the two of us, I commented to her about this once and she told me it was simply unnecessary, and it really was, a beautiful girl is beautiful regardless of what she's wearing, but in spite of that I always tried to make myself pretty for Weiss, but she never noticed or simply didn't care, or maybe she had no comments to make because even with makeup on Weiss still didn't find me pretty.

After she got dressed we'd have lunch. She always served shitty lunch, some miniature tomatoes, exotic cabbages and some weird rice bread, accompanied with this tasteless, zero calories pear or grape "flavored" water. What little simplicity. Sometimes I'd come to her place straight from work with a rumbling stomach and all she had to eat were leftovers of the same bullshit.

We'd then spend some time on the terrace. I smoked mentholated cigarettes while she drank green tea. She'd tell me about work and her new shorts with ventilation technology and the Olympic games from some fucking country I'd never heard of. That's why I liked being drunk around her. She didn't give a flying shit about my day. I imagined a remote in my hand and slowly directed the MUTE towards her unloving, uncaring lips.

After that we had sex. I always had to force it a little bit, I think it was the exercise she less enjoyed. Whatever, we didn't do it that many times anyway.

Weiss never moaned, she just made these little exhaling sounds like she was meditating. Whenever I went to put my fingers inside her she'd always tell me "Three series of fifteen, and then switch". She was that serious, monotonous and firm with me. I laid her down on her back and started fingering her with my right hand while my left hand fondled her breasts and nipples, and my mouth sealed hers, in the end neither of us noticed if it was fifteen or fifty, that's pleasure for you. After a while my right hand became soaked, her nipples hard and our kiss, for the first time, passionate. Weiss' Buddhist exhales now partially revealed a small, enclosed moans. Small gesture, big gesture, it made me go crazy. You know, it turns you on when you turn someone on. She arched her back and I saw her ponytail hanging around from side to side and I simply had to grab it. She liked it. I decided to let her hair loose.

"No… no, Ruby not that, mh!" She broke our kiss to tell me that, what the hell.

"Weiss please, just this once, you never take it off!" I figured she'd concede so I didn't wait for a response before recapturing her lips with mine.

"No… no" She softly resisted, and finally, nanoseconds before the climax, I took off her tiara and her hair flew freely across the bed. Like a wave on a blank shore, like when you drop the sugar on the table, like a blanket stretched across the floor, like sunlight at 6 am.

"What's your fucking problem!?"

"Why? What is it? Weiss, what is it?"

She pushed me off of her and I fell on my back, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

"Put on your clothes" She said while she tried to fix her dumb off-side ponytail. Why the hell was she mad at me?

"Weiss… really?" I had to bite back a sob, I'm so quick to cry in these situations.

"Yes" Again it felt like she was ignoring me.

I told her she was a horrible girlfriend to me before leaving for the bathroom to get changed, in the end I couldn't hold back the tears. I thought about breaking up then and there but decided against it, I felt bad. We really spoke different languages, I gathered my things and was ready to leave.

"Where are the keys? I'm leaving"

"Ruby, you can stay, just… sleep on the couch"

"Mh, fine"

"Hey… I'm sorry, okay?"

"Mmhm"

I fell asleep on the uncomfortable white couch, with tears in my eyes and a long, thick and sad shot of Bacardi.

She woke me up at 9 am, it was Sunday.

"Ruby, wake up" Weiss softly shook my shoulder.

"What, you run on Sundays now too? Gimme a fucking break" I made no effort to hide how little I liked her in that moment. She flinched.

"That's not it, I was hired to give yoga clases at the gym downstairs, it's my first day" Weiss explained with a soft voice, I still didn't turn to face her.

"Fine, fuck it" Was my response.

I quickly got up and went to the bus stop with a sore head, I blamed it on the rum.

A few days later I went to see her at the gym. There she was, doing yoga in front of a bunch of old ladies and some teenagers who were following her, with her usual ponytail and her butt cheeks almost as firm as her, packed inside her light blue shorts. I softly smiled at the last thought. She didn't see me, nor did I want her to.

Now I see her on TV, Weiss is the new chick that does the dumb exercise routines and yoga and all that modern crap.

I watch her for a while and I start tapping my foot along with the rhythm of the shitty background music.

She doesn't wear her ponytail anymore.


End file.
